FRANCES. Fifth. They asked me down for the christening . . but I really couldn't. TREBELL. September's the month for Tuscany. The car chose to break down one morning just as we were starting North again: so we climbed one of the little hills and sat for a couple of hours, while I composed a fifteenth century electioneering speech to the citizens of Siena. FRANCES. [_With a half smile._] Have you a vein of romance for holiday time? TREBELL. [_Dispersing the suggestion._] Not at all romantic . . nothing but figures and fiscal questions. That was the hardest commercial civilisation there has been, though you only think of its art and its murders now. FRANCES. The papers on both sides have been very full of you . . saying you hold the moral balance . . or denying it. TREBELL. An interviewer caught me at Basle. I offered to discuss the state of the Swiss navy. FRANCES. Was that before Lord Horsham wrote to you? TREBELL. Yes, his letter came to Innsbruck. He "expressed" it somehow. Why . . it isn't known that he will definitely ask me to join? FRANCES. The Whitehall had a leader before the Elections were well over to say that he must . . but, of course, that was Mr. Farrant. TREBELL. [_Knowingly._] Mrs. Farrant. I saw it in Paris . . it just caught me up. FRANCES. The Times is very shy over the whole question . . has a letter from a fresh bishop every day . . doesn't talk of you very kindly yet. TREBELL. Tampering with the Establishment, even Cantelupe's way, will be a pill to the real old Tory right to the bitter end. WALTER KENT _comes in, very fresh and happy-looking. A young man started in life_, TREBELL _hails him_. TREBELL. Hullo . . you've not been long getting shaved. KENT. How do you do, Miss Trebell? Lucy turned me out. FRANCES. My congratulations. I've not seen you since I heard the news. KENT. [_Glad and unembarrassed._] Thank you. I do deserve them, don't I? Mrs. Farrant didn't come down . . she left us to breakfast together. But I've a message for you . . her love and she is in town. I went and saw Lord Charles, sir. He will come to you and be here at half past eleven. TREBELL. Look at these. _He smacks on the back, so to speak, the pile of parcels and letters._ KENT. Oh, lord! . . I'd better start on them. FRANCES. [_Continuing in her smooth oldmaidish manner._] Thank you for getting engaged just before you went off with Henry . . it has given me my only news of him, through Lucy and your postcards. TREBELL. Oh, what about Wedgecroft? KENT. I think it was he spun up just as I'd been let in. TREBELL. Oh, well . . [_And he rings at the telephone which is on his table._] KENT. [_Confiding in MISS TREBELL._] We're a common sense couple, aren't we? I offered to ask to stay behind but she . . . SIMPSON, _the maid, comes in_. SIMPSON. Dr. Wedgecroft, sir.